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Lila drags me through the lodge lobby. “Outside.”

“It’s twelve degrees.”

“You survived Special Forces.”

“Didn’t do it voluntarily in dress shoes.”

She grabs my coat from the hook and shoves it into my chest. “Put this on.”

“You’re bossy.”

“You love it.”

“Sometimes.”

She opens the door and cold air hits me and I immediately close it. “No.”

“Dane!”

I catch her around the waist. She squeals when I pull her against me. “Alternative plan.”

“What?”

“Upstairs.”

“We have all night for upstairs.”

“Exactly.”

She kisses my jaw.

“Five minutes.”

“Two.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

“Deal.”

I put on my coat and Lila grabs hers and leads me outside.

Snow crunches beneath our shoes. The parking lot is nearly empty now as warm light glows from the lodge windows behind us.

“What am I looking at?”

“Turn around.”

“I am turned around.”

“The other way.”

I turn and stop. The old wooden sign at the entrance has been replaced. For as long as I’ve lived in Devil’s Peak, it has said the same thing.

DAWSON LODGE

Not anymore.